Close Call
by Katrina Marie Lupin
Summary: Sly's stuck in retirement, but it doesn't keep him from sending his buddy birthday wishes.


"Bentley..."

Carmelita Fox's eyes shot open, albeit red and bleary. She looked to a clock, and growled lowly at what she saw. With intent to give him a thought of her mind, Carmelita turned to her bedmate – Sly Cooper.

Sly was dead asleep.

You could tell he was really into whatever dream it was, too. His paws were kicking and clawing ever so slightly, as if he was running, and even his ears darted about in every direction, trying to hear whatever they could. Carmelita frowned. If it weren't so late she might have had such an issue with him kicking in his sleep. Heck, she might even have thought it cute. As it was, it was past three in the morning, and she was decidedly not pleased. Even less by what she was pretty sure she'd heard.

He moved his head tucked his ears back, worried. "Bentley..." he whispered again, calling from under his voice.

Camelita snarled. Just as she thought. "Ringtail..." She'd intented to attract his attention, but the voice came out more as a warning. But, she couldn't help the tone of voice she acquired when woken up at an ungodly hour of the night.

Suddenly, Sly's motions quickened. "Bentley," he called again, quick. "She..." His lips moved, but the murmur was incomprehensible, try as she might to listen. "...Get me..."

Carmelita tilted her head slightly. Now that she thought of it, he'd never talked in his sleep before. Tossed and turned, occasionally. He sometimes had nightmares that woken him up in the middle of the night, but he was good enough to keep it to himself when he could. Part of her was curious as to what was disturbing him so, and a little concerned.

"Who?" she whispered, a little less harsh.

"M-..." he tried. " '-melita."

At that she bolted upright, startling Sly awake. His first reaction was to grab hold of whatever was around him, and she could see his muscles flex under his fur as his hands quickly gripped the bed well as he could. His eyes were large, bright and calculating, and took stock of his environment for a sparest second... And then rolled to her.

Her own surprise made way for suspicion, and she crossed her arms, cocking an eyebrow at him, her ears pulled back in displeasure.

Sly looked away, making a choice. He pursed his lips, squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. His muscles melted around him as a tired hand came to his head.

"Woah... My head..." he murmured.

Carmelita tapped a finger on her arm in her impatience. She cocked her head to the other side, her jaw clenched. She gave him a glare. "Bad dreams, _darling_?" she said sharply.

From beneath his hand, he gave her a sheepish smile. "I guess so."

"Do you remember what it was about?" she asked, using her interrogation voice.

He gave her a look, saying he noticed. "I'm sorry," he replied, using the voice he often did when she tried to pry at him like this. "I didn't realise it was a crime to have bad dreams." He ran a hand down the back of his head. "I take it I woke you?"

"Yes, you did," she replied, still sharp. "I thought you were taking pills?"

He grimaced. "I ran out."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you did." They'd both wasted a couple of work days getting that prescription, and they'd paid for it dearly with extra work. "When were you going to tell me this?"

Sly sighed, caught. "I hadn't had the chance to go get some more." He looked back to her, his ears down in a submissive position. "I'm sorry."

She felt her resolve falter. He looked pretty helpless. Bad dream, head hurting, everything in his body language screamed that he was sorry he'd woken her, and she could feel her arms melt out of each other.

A moment later, she had her arms around him. "Oh, Sly, I'm sorry," she murmured, nuzzling his neck. He gladly put his arms around her as well. "I get so paranoid sometimes. Please, forgive me."

"Of course, Carmelita," he answered, a bit of a smile in his voice. "But can I ask, whatever for?"

She leaned back and gave him a big smile. "Oh, nothing." She gave him a quick smooch. "It's just paranoia. Put it out of your mind." She bounced back to her side of the bed. "But, it's late. We sleep now, yes? We'll talk again in the morning. Big day! Early start!"

Sly smirked. "Alright, gorgeous. Whatever you say."

She turned her back to him and wiggled a little to show her replaced joy. He chuckled lightly, and put a hand to her bottom. She giggled (this was a common 'conversation') and sighed happily. He took his hands and rearranged the pillow beneath his head as he turned the opposite way.

Despite the conversation, they were both surprisingly sober. Each stared at the wall, their eyes searching it for an answer. Carmelita decided it was probably just a fluke, and nothing to worry about, even as she made a note of the occasion, in case it happened again. Sly's eyes blinked with fear and panick – that had been close. Too close.

Across town, another pair of bedmates were just turning in.

With a little smooch, Penelope settled in beside her love, the turtle Bentley. Things were a little tricky, with him not being able to use his legs, but they managed quite nicely. Bentley, for his part, was thoroughly satisfied with life.

"Did you have a good birthday?" she asked him, and Bentley smiled at her.

"I most certainly did, my Queen," he answered, nasally as ever. "In fact... I even got a card from Sly Cooper today.

Penelope sat up with a start. "Do what?" She turned to face him. "When?"

"Well, remember when you went out to get the last of my birthday dinner?"

"Yeah," she answered. "When I came back, you said you'd been checking on something." She grinned. "Did you get to talk to him?"

"In a manner of speaking. It wasn't a calling card, but I recognised the stationary on which he'd sent his quickly scribbled birthday wishes. I tracked him down, and I found him in Paris. Hiding in one of the only places I didn't think to look."

"Where's that?"

"Interpol."

She beamed. "Ooh... Oh, he's good." She stared off, a familiar smile on her face.

Bentley took her by the chin and returned her attentions to him. "Hey, now. Don't let that thief steal my girlfriend on the day of my birth," he chided, wiggling his eyebrows.

Penelope giggled and kissed him on the cheek. "Oh, never."

The two settled in, and Bentley contemplated his old friend's birthday gift.

Sly was in retirement, but now Bentley knew where to find him, if ever he needed him.


End file.
